


The List

by writerspassion18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coworkers - Freeform, Death, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, Lust, Mild Language, Mild Smut, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerspassion18/pseuds/writerspassion18
Summary: Draco had no idea what he was getting himself into when Theo handed him a business card. Sixty numbers. Sixty options. One of those options would lead him into a sensual and deadly endeavor. (smut, drama, angst, murder-mystery, and romance)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	The List

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no business starting a new WIP, but I have no restraint lol. Not to mention that I've missed writing and posting, so here I am! Loosely based on the movie "Innocent Deception." Hope that you enjoyed it :)

Draco was going to dig his fingers right through his temples if he wasn't careful, but right now, did he care? He held the lives of several important people in hands —one more important than the rest —and everything had to be done according to protocol and without mistakes.

No, he wasn't a Healer. Out of all the professions Draco thought that he would have after Hogwarts, magical protection wasn't one of them. His division was part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Part Auror, part muggle Secret Service of sorts, Draco and his team were responsible for making sure no political dignitaries got offed. Who he and his team were to guard varied depending on the severity of the situation whether it be a simple speech at a public event, or if it was a large gala. The more public the place and the more important the government official, the greater the danger.

As it currently stood, Draco was assessing the venue for where the Minister of Magic wanted to hold England's annual global meeting in the next couple of months. The layout screamed disaster, and it would take him all of his faculties to get it together. Sure, it was months away, but it required detailed planning and running through every possible scenario should danger arise.

It was a good thing he got paid extremely well.

"Mate, it's nearly midnight. What are you still doing here?"

Draco didn't move, but his eyes did look up from the parchment on his desk to acknowledge Theo who stood in his office doorway. " _You're_ still here," he remarked. Theo tilted his head in recognition and gestured to the stack of files under his arm.

"I was doing work at home and realized that I hadn't taken everything I needed," Theo explained. "You, on the other hand, obviously haven't moved from your desk in hours."

Draco looked back down at his work and sighed before letting the quill in his hand slip from his fingers. He fully leaned his head on his left hand and closed his eyes. It felt good. Had Theo not been here he might have fallen asleep automatically.

"The Minister's gala was recently put at my feet and it's already causing me a headache."

"Everything the Minister does causes you a headache," Theo chuckled, "not to mention other members of the wizarding government. No one told you to take on such a stressful job."

"Yes, well, I'm a sucker for punishment."

Theo continued to watch his friend as he, possibly, drifted off into REM sleep. He knew that Draco loved his job, but his job had cost him a lot over the years. Sleep was one of them, and only Theo knew just how many charms the blond used to hide both his dark circles and wrinkles. With a sigh, Theo stepped fully into Draco's office and closed the door with his foot. Had he not been sure that they were alone, he would've put up a Silencing Charm as well before going up to Draco's desk.

"When was the last time you got laid?"

Draco snapped his eyes open and tilted his head aright so fast that it made him dizzy. "I beg your pardon?"

"Laid?" Theo repeated. He set his files on the corner of Draco's desk and sat himself down as he followed up with, "The horizontal tango? The dance with no—?"

"Stop, _please,_ " Draco interrupted before he could finish that hideous analogy. "Why do you care?"

"Because you look bloody exhausted."

"As if a vigorous activity such as sex would _encourage_ sleep?" the blond coyly replied with a smirk. Theo didn't even bother with a rebuttal. Instead, he leaned forward in his seat, his face now expressing concern rather than playful teasing.

"Exhaustion doesn't just apply to sleep, you know. You've always been a hardworking man, Draco, but you've been even more so ever since—"

"That's of no consequence, and I'd rather not discuss it," Draco said sharply. Theo snapped his mouth shut, nodded, and increased the distance between them.

"Fair enough. Regardless of the matter," Theo continued as he pulled something out of the pocket on the inside of his jacket, "I think this would be good for you."

Draco was getting handed a business card, but before he could take it, Theo pulled it back a few inches out of the man's reach.

"There are only sixty slots at any given time. The only way for someone new to join is if one of the sixty gives up their slot. You're lucky that you're my best friend. The List has been…a rather interesting experience."

"Has it?" Draco questioned as his eyes moved from the card and to his friend's face. "And what exactly is this list that's given you such an experience?"

" _The_ List," Theo specifically corrected, "and that's the trick. I can't tell you."

Draco's brows instantly furrowed as his gaze drifted back to the card again. "Sorry?"

"It's a secret."

"A secret?"

"Yes. Let's call it…a secret club."

"Right." Draco finally let his outstretched hand fall to his desk as his other caressed his chin. Theo had begun twirling the card between his fingers, and the blond noted how simple it was. Black on both sides and numbers with letters next to them written in a shiny, reflective silver color. Those numbers and letters weren't visible all the time, it seemed. They only appeared when it caught the light.

 _Intriguing…_ the blond thought as he became hypnotized by it. "Let me get this straight. You're giving up your slot to a 'secret club' that's so secret you can't even tell me about it before I join. Is that correct?"

"Precisely."

"Mmhmm. You do understand that I take caution with everything that I do, yes? Explain to me why I would accept to join something that I know absolutely nothing about."

"Curiosity, of course," Theo smiled broadly. He spun the card again for good measure and this time set it on the desk between himself and Draco. "All you have to know is that I wouldn't present anything to you that I haven't approved of myself. It'll be good for you, just as it's been good for me. Just take the card in hand and sprinkle a bit of Floo Powder on it. It'll flash green and ask you for a number."

Draco finally picked up the card. It was matte finished —smooth to the touch and enhanced the partially visible silver writing. The letters, upon closer inspection, were either an "F" or "M." "What will happen after I say a number?"

"You'll be given a location and a time. The time itself is usually within the half an hour of your request, so best use it when you can immediately slip away."

"Slip away?" Draco repeated. "Theo, what kind of shady shit is this?"

"The best kind," Theo happily replied. "The question remains is if you're going to bite."

Draco gently moved the card forward and back, admiring how the numbers and letters appeared and vanished. He supposed it helped with the secrecy. It was so discrete and easily missed if he didn't already know that it was there. Theo kept his eyes on the blond, his lips morphing into a contented, yet mischievous smile as he realized there was no turning back.

"Might I suggest fifty?"

Draco's focus was disrupted by Theo's suggestion and furthermore by seeing his friend rising from his seat. He picked up his files and tucked them under his arm before gesturing with his head to Draco's hands.

"Fifty, alright?" Theo said again. "And get some bloody sleep —tomorrow," he slyly added and then whistled as he exited Draco's office.

Once he was gone, Draco finally had a moment to gather his thoughts, however they were hard to put together. The past few minutes with Theo had officially ranked as the _oddest_ moment he'd ever had in his life. Had he not known the man so well, Draco would have been severely put off by him, but Theo had been right. He wouldn't lure him into anything dangerous. More than that even, Theo had aroused Draco's curiosity. Curiosity _did_ kill the cat; however, he'd been dead inside for the past five years, and you couldn't kill what was already gone…

Draco looked down at the work still on his desk that Theo had effectively distracted him from. He certainly wasn't going to be working on it now. A chime in the air from the grandfather clock in the corner of his office let him known that it was just after midnight. There was nothing waiting for him at home as Scorpius didn't live there anymore, and so it didn't really matter if he indulged in his curiosity, right?

Draco pushed back his chair and with the business card in hand he walked over to his fireplace. As with most witches and wizards, he kept his Floo Powder in a small pot on the mantle, and he picked up just a pinch. He sprinkled it onto the card, and just as Theo said there was a green flash and an artificial voice began emanating from the card.

"Number?" the voice said.

"Fifty," Draco replied after clearing his throat. Seconds passed, perhaps even a full minute, before an address was provided as well as the time to meet —12:30. The address was of a hotel, and by judging the hotel room number, he would be heading to a suite or penthouse of some sort. Draco's intrigue had heightened at this, and he stuffed the business card into his pants' pocket before grabbing the jacket to his suit. His cloak was hung on a coat rack and he slipped it over his shoulders and fastened it with a custom-engraved clip he had been gifted by his father.

Draco used his wand to turn off the lights and grabbed a touch more Floo Powder as he entered the fireplace. The good thing about using his office Floo meant that he didn't have to apparate to a local apparation spot. Sure, it was after midnight, but he preferred to limit his outdoor movements as much as possible until he knew exactly what he had gotten himself into. So far, it appeared to be an invitation to a rather small, yet posh-looking hotel. He could see his reflection om the floor as well as on the gold trim on the lobby's desk. It made him smile knowing that if such care could be taken there, it must have been just as nice elsewhere.

"How can I help you, sir?" a rather short, older witch greeted him. Draco suddenly wondered if he should have been given a secret password to get to where he was going. This seemed like the opportune moment at least. A password, the witch stealthily looking left and right to make sure no one was watching them, and then slipping him an envelope with further instructions.

Instead, Draco merely answered, "I'm supposed to be meeting someone in room PH101."

"Ah yes, I was told to be expecting a guest. One moment while I prepare your key."

Intrigue had now given way to anxious anticipation. That meant that whoever he was meeting was already upstairs. Perhaps it was a business venture that Theo thought he wanted to get in on? Unlikely, as there were far too many theatrics involved. The card, the numbers, the last minute arrangements… As much as Draco trusted Theo, he was now having his doubts as the witch gave him the key to his room.

"She didn't even ask for my name," Draco murmured to himself as he walked away from the desk and over to the nearby lifts. By the looks of the buttons he could press, there were only three penthouse rooms: PH100, PH101, and PH102. He pushed the one meant for him and took a deep breath as the lift brought him up one floor at a time. When the doors opened and Draco stepped out, he saw that the door to PH101 was right ahead of him and the others on opposite ends of the hall.

Draco was feeling uneasy as the answer to this entire mysterious evening was moments away from being answered, and the only reason he put his key to the door was because he had come too far to turn back. The door unlocked with a soft click and he slowly entered. His first thoughts were that the penthouse was lovely. The door opened up to a dimly lit hall, a door to his right —perhaps a washroom —and to his left a mirror big enough to capture three people over six feet tall. Further in and to the left was a minibar. Someone had already taken to the brandy for the decanter's top was laying idly next to it. Draco was tempted to pour himself a glass, but he still hadn't a clue what was going on here and he needed a level head.

Opposite the minibar was a dining room table that seated six, and beyond this the marble floor changed to carpet and led into a large living room. Dimly lit, much like the hall, but he could see someone sitting on an armchair facing the ceiling-to-floor windows partly covered by burgundy curtains.

"There you are," the darkened (and apparently female) figure said as she stood. "I was beginning to think that you'd gotten…lost."

Draco was glad that he hadn't taken that drink, for if he had it would have fallen to the floor. What _did_ fall was the key to the room. It was involuntary, truly, as it so simply slipped from his numb fingers. Yes, he was numb. Hands, arms, legs… He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't an unabashed Hermione Granger wearing lingerie. She seemed just as surprised to see him, but it wasn't long before she had managed to school her features into one of understanding and acceptance. She used a wand Draco hadn't realized she'd been holding to brighten the room, and it was then that he could fully see what she was wearing.

It looked like a dress. A very short and a very _sheer_ and lacy black dress that stopped just below her bum. It hugged the witch like a second skin and it was a wonder how she could breathe. She was pushing fifty like he was, but she damn sure didn't look like it. Smooth legs that seemed to go on for miles —certainly accentuated by the black heels that she wore. Draco found himself wondering if the lingerie she wore had amplified the size of her breasts or had they always been so…full. Granted, the only time he ever saw the woman was when she was in her robes, and robes hardly flattered any woman's figure. Not like this at any rate…

Draco swallowed, his throat completely dry, and cringed when he found himself stuttering. "Granger, I… I d-don't understand—"

"You're new to this," Hermione interrupted him. She walked closer to him and now that she was standing in front of him, Draco was no longer numb. At least the lower part of him wasn't. She was staring him dead in the eye and Draco, usually so bold and confident, couldn't hold her gaze. He felt himself flinch when she brought a finger under his chin and made him look at her. "Shame on the person who introduced you and didn't explain the rules."

Draco tilted his head. "Rules?"

"Yes. Rule number one, no names. Rule number two, never discuss The List to anyone unless you intend on giving up your slot. Rule number three, never meet at the same place within the same month. Rule number four, no money exchanges at _any_ time. This isn't a prostitute service."

"Pr- _prostitute_ service?" _Damn, that stammer!_ he thought bitterly, but Hermione merely smiled and gestured to her body.

"I didn't get all dressed up to sleep," she chuckled. Draco felt his heart hammer at the statement, his mind running rampant at the insinuation. This couldn't possibly be happening, but his body trembled as Hermione placed a hand on the clasp holding his cloak together and pulled it off of him.

"We're overworked and we're overwhelmed," Hermione said as she removed his jacket so that it could join his cloak on the floor. Her fingers began working on the buttons of his shirt, and Draco tried his best to regulate his breathing —anything to not give the impression that he was losing it in both senses of the word. "The List is a method to release tension in fifty-nine different ways."

Draco closed his eyes. Hermione had begun to kiss him —not on the lips, but rather just behind his ear, slowly going down his jaw. She alternated between a kiss, a nibble, and a lick of her tongue and Draco, still stunned at these unforeseen events, did nothing. Nothing but shudder when her ministrations moved onto his chest.

"So," he breathed, looking down to see nothing but her well-maintained, albeit still bushy, mane, "if I had chosen twenty-two instead?"

Draco damn near groaned when Hermione stopped, but she looked up at him as she answered. "It would be some other witch on her knees."

The blond's brows disappeared into his hairline. When had she gotten down on her knees? A shot of adrenaline coursed through him at the reason _why_ she would be, but, in addition to that, there was also panic. This was Granger. They had history —a horrid one at that. It didn't matter that they often worked together with minimal animosity. It would be better to fuck a stranger in his opinion.

"How can you do this?" Draco asked. An expression that he could only describe as irritation passed her features, and she sat back on her heels.

"Do what?" Yes, she was irritated. Hermione had said it with a huff and crossed her arms under her chest.

" _This?_ "

"Sleep with strangers, you mean."

"That's just it. I'm _not_ a stranger." Draco sighed and also got down on his knees so that he was looking her in the eye. "Strangers are easy. You don't have to see them tomorrow and you damn sure don't have to work with them."

Hermione was silent for a moment, but she eventually sighed like he did and let her arms fall to her sides. "You're right, it is easier. However, I've found that sex can make you forget a lot of things, but maybe not for you. You can go."

In one blink Draco had heard what Hermione said, but also missed when she had gotten up from the floor. He watched her walk through the living room and turn left —assumingly to the bedroom. Draco was at a loss for words, but the one thing that was certain was the end of this little adventure. He hung his head down in a mix of misunderstood emotions before turning behind him to grab his jacket and cloak before rising to his feet. He took one last look at the direction Hermione had gone before shaking his head and heading towards the door. Draco had managed to do three of his shirt's buttons by the time he made it to the exit, but his hands stopped. He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but all the while his thoughts were racing. His last thought had resulted in the decision to drop his jacket and cloak, shed his shirt, and head to where Hermione had disappeared off to. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her shoes tossed aside, piling her hair into a messy bun. Her hands froze in place when she realized that he was standing in the doorway.

"You didn't get all dressed up to sleep," Draco said. He walked into the bedroom and closed the door without waiting for her reply. He was standing in front of her now, looking down at the witch who was staring up at him with confused, albeit anticipating eyes.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked softly.

"No."

There were many things in Draco's life that he hadn't been "sure" of. Things that he had gambled on that had turned out alright, and other things that had shaped up horribly. While he was positive his current actions fell under the "horrible" part, Draco was past the point of caring. All he wanted was to feel.

Draco hadn't kissed a witch in five years —not since his ex-wife had decided that their marriage was over. In light of that, he couldn't decide if it had been the time lost or the woman before him that made him forget where he was. He had reached for her hands, and Hermione had glanced at them with a questioning expression before placing them in his. Draco had pulled her to her feet then, and without her shoes he realized that she had to lift her head in order to properly look at him. It had given Draco a perfect view of her neck, and if she could start an encounter with her lips on his own neck, then he could do the same with hers.

So that's what Draco did. He mimicked every kiss, nibble, and lick she had given him, and apparently, she was far more sensitive than he was in that area. There were soft hitches of her breath and a contented sigh in her throat. His hands travelled from her own and up her arms, an utter delight settling in his stomach when he felt her shiver under his touch. His hands settled on the back of her neck, and _that_ was when he kissed her lips. A gentle press that was hardly enough, and yet it had created a longing in Hermione's eyes when he pulled away. His mouth was mere centimeters from hers, and the involuntary gasp she gave when his hands travelled down her back caused her lips to quiver and brush against his.

The kiss that followed was deeper. Draco gripped the hem of her negligee, his fingers dragging along her thighs as he hiked it up and over her head. Hermione's hair came loose and framed her face and, for a fraction of a second, he was distracted by her angelic features. Features of a witch whom he never thought he'd be pushing back onto a bed as he let the remainder of his clothing gather to the floor. Draco crawled over her and he remarked at how she reached up for him, perhaps in an effort to bring his face to hers. He could only chuckle within himself at the assertive witch. The one so willing when he first entered the suite. The proactive girl from school turned woman who ordered everyone around at work. So used to having her way that he imagined it was the same with intimacy.

Draco would change that when he grabbed her wrists and kept them above her head. A bit of wandless magic locked them together, and he watched her struggle as her eyes shifted into alarm —a fight or flight response that disappeared once he kissed her again. Maybe she thought he would hurt her, but the lines between fear and anticipation blurred as Draco's mouth drifted to her breasts, his tongue flicking over her nipples, biting —too hard, he knew —but spurred on by every cry of pain she made, masked by pleasure. Ever a man to multitask, Draco kept his mouth on one breast, one hand on the other, a not-so-gentle twist of her nipple on the other, while his free hand travelled down between her legs.

Two fingers teased around her lips before Draco inserted one, the corners of his mouth turning up when he heard an unrestrained gasp from the brunette whose hips also bucked upwards. He kept a hand on her hip as he lay his head on her stomach so he heard every moan she uttered as he stimulated her with yet another finger and soon a third. In that moment all he wanted was just to hear her, to feel the muscles in her stomach contract, and to feel the resistance of her thighs as he did his best to keep her still.

"Damn it, I hate you," Draco heard her say. It was only then that he raised his head, noticing how Hermione fought against the invisible restraints on her wrists. He smirked. He'd been hated before, but this type of hate he preferred.

Draco abruptly stopped his ministrations and moved his body up so that he was face to face with her, his cock lingering between her legs, gently moving forward but not enough to satisfy.

"Are you going to untie me?" she asked. Panted, more like it, and Draco licked his lips once before countering with,

"Are you sure you want me to?" His question was accompanied with sliding himself in just a bit deeper, her moan just as slow as his teasing. Her head subtly shook left to right, and Draco smiled as he nuzzled his face along her cheek, his mouth at the base of her ear, and he whispered, "I thought so."

Draco went all the way this time, relishing every breath she couldn't catch with each thrust he gave. It was only after she came undone around him that he undid the magic that held her wrists together. He immediately felt one hand behind his head, gripping his hair, and her other arm around his back, holding him tight. He may have enjoyed being the only one "putting in the work," but Draco quickly realized that he liked this too. To feel wanted. To feel needed. To never be let go.

Draco came soon after this, and his and Hermione's breathing slowed and their bodies calmed to expose the quiet of the room. Part of him wanted to say something, because the reality of what had just happened and _who_ it had happened with was hitting him. However, Hermione beat him to the punch, and it wasn't what he expected.

Hermione had yet to remove her arms from him, and her fingers were threading through his hair as she lay her cheek on the top of his head. With soft words, she muttered, "Thank you for staying."

There were no words that Draco could think of that could serve as an adequate reply. As it were, he was often better with actions, and instead moved to kiss her on the forehead. She held him a little closer after that, and soon they were both asleep.

* * *

Draco woke up alone the next morning. He hadn't really expected to find her there, but he still laughed at the circumstances considering that he had done his share of "dine and dash," so to speak. As it stood, the witch was known to be at work earlier than most, and it was after six a.m. He never got to his office until eight, but he supposed now would be a good time to get up anyway. As he did, he found a piece of parchment on the bed written in a cursive that he knew to be hers. There wasn't much written, but what was there gave him a bit of comfort.

_Rule number five: What happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors_

Draco wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He would leave here, go home, get ready for work, and go on about his life as though he hadn't trotted down a forbidden territory. There was a problem, however: he didn't anticipate it being so difficult to forget. He had to go to work knowing that the first shag he'd had in five years was with a woman who was currently pretending that last night didn't happen. It didn't help that today, of all days, that he couldn't avoid her. Nearly all of his meetings had included her, and it took all of his willpower not to let memories of their escapade flood to the forefront of his mind. Draco had been right. Fucking a stranger was a hell of a lot easier than with someone you knew.

_But Theo knew…_

Theo had specifically told him to choose fifty. That couldn't have been coincidental. He knew that it would be Granger, and that also meant that Theo had slept with her. Draco wondered if his first encounter with Granger had been just as awkward. He also wondered, quite bitterly, if Theo had ever seen her on purpose once he realized what number she was. It made the blond's nose turn up in annoyance and he groaned aloud as a memo flew onto his desk.

"Well, speak of the witch," Draco grumbled. He was being summoned to her office, and as much as he would have loved to ignore her request, no one dared to do such a thing. Not to a woman of her position, of course. So, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on as he left his office. The lift ride to her floor was always a tedious one, mainly because there were always a bunch of stops to make before hers. However, as with everything seemingly to be against him today, there was no one on the lift with him and no one got on along the way. It was a one-shot ride and Draco had made it to Granger's floor within record time.

After one knock Draco was granted access to her office, and he closed the door behind him once he entered. "You wished to see me?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione nodded and motioned to the seat in front of her. "Please, sit."

If there was one thing that Draco could say of her —and of himself or any classmate of his who worked in the Ministry —there was nothing but pure professionalism from her. While never one to use his first name, in the past fifteen years in working with her in some form or another, never once did a disgruntled _"Malfoy"_ pass her lips. So good she was at separating her feelings from what may have been difficult situations. It was impressive and downright annoying.

"Is there anything wrong?" Draco genuinely asked. Hermione seemed nearly surprised by his question, but she quickly shook her head and cupped her hands neatly on her desk.

"No, no, not at all. I asked you here because I just had a meeting with the Head of the MLE. We spoke about a great number of things, but mostly about my global meeting in the next couple of months and my travels beforehand."

Draco's attention, while already rapt, picked up considerably at that. His brows furrowed as he inquired further. "Are there changes to be made with the meeting?"

"Yes and no," Hermione replied, although Draco detected hesitancy in her voice. For a brief moment he thought that he might be getting fired. _That_ would've been the icing on the cake, but as she spoke, his eyes widened. "Your department head was running through which Aurors were handling the various aspects of my upcoming events and I agreed with everything he suggested except for one thing: Anthony Hicks as my Auror escort."

"You're denying Anthony Hicks? He's a highly decorated Auror with three awards and successful missions ranging from—"

" —espionage, raids, covert ops, and fending off an astounding six attackers at once. Trust me, I know his credentials," Hermione smiled. She even lifted a folder for him to see that clearly had Anthony Hicks' name on the side. "He knows how to look for danger and how to deal with it, yes, but nothing in his file tells me that he knows how to react to danger that he doesn't know is coming. I need someone who can do that _and_ do what he does. That's why I pushed for you to take his place as my personal Auror escort during my upcoming travels."

" _You what?!_ " Draco shouted as he completely forgot his decorum. Hermione didn't appear to be tussled by the outburst. She even laughed. His embarrassment rose to his cheeks, but it was too late now. He cleared his throat and said, calmly, "I'm not a field Auror."

"You are now. My recent political statements and moves have made more enemies than friends these days. While my Auror detail is usually superb, I want to make sure it's impeccable. Besides, you…" Hermione's words trailed. Draco sat patiently, waiting for her to continue, when for the first time today he saw the witch falter. She was no longer looking at him head on, and instead her gaze had fallen to her desk. She was picking at her cuticles and when she spoke again it was with far less confidence than she had originally greeted him with.

"You have an attention to detail that isn't found in many people," she said. When she finally looked up at him, her confidence had returned, but it wasn't a professional one. The witch from last night was in front of his face, and it took every fiber of Draco's being not to physically react to what she said next. "You're to be in my eyesight twenty-four hours a day, Mr. Malfoy. Is that clear?"

Draco smiled, gently nodding to the woman who had a side to her he was so desperate to see again.

"Of course. It would be my pleasure, Minister Granger."

* * *

Draco left the Minister's office in higher spirits than when he had come into work that morning. He knew, _for a fact_ , that Granger was full of shit. What happens behind closed doors stays behind closed doors? Sure. Minds were closed doors. Hearts were closed doors. Bodies were closed doors. He was buried in her memory and she could no more shake him than he could her. So much so that she was abusing her power to keep him. It was quite the ego-builder, he must say. On a more personal note, it also soothed him knowing that there was at least one person in this world who wanted him —no matter how superficial the circumstances.

"You usually lock your door, mate."

Draco was dragged from his thoughts when he realized that his office wasn't empty. Theo was there, sitting in his chair, his feet up on his desk, and his hands behind his head. The blond's eyes zeroed in on his friend's feet and he scowled.

"Get your damn feet off my desk before you scuff it. That desk was paid for with _my_ money, not the department's."

"My you're grumpy," Theo tutted as he complied. "I take it you didn't you didn't _indulge_ last night?"

Draco's "grumpy" demeanor immediately disappeared and he grinned broadly. He gestured for Theo to get away from his desk completely and turned to sit down. Theo cocked his head to one side as he watched Draco's movements, his own lips quirking upwards.

"How was it?"

"Revealing," Draco replied. "You set me up."

"On the contrary," Theo innocently shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets in the process. "I merely piqued your interest enough so that you couldn't say no."

"Entrapment then, if you want to be so fancy about it."

"Call it what you want, clearly you don't regret it."

"…Not anymore, no."

"And you did before?" Theo asked in disbelief. "What for?"

"What do you mean 'what for?' She's Gran— _Fifty_ ," Draco corrected himself. Theo noticed the near slip and applauded his friend's correction with a small nod. "It didn't matter if I enjoyed last night or not. The fact that it was fifty didn't sit well with me. Not with our history _or_ the fact that she's the boss of all bosses."

"And yet you gave your wand a good wave anyway," Theo chuckled. "What changed your mind?"

_The fact that Granger clearly can't separate business from pleasure…_

"I'm skilled in Occlumency," Draco said simply as he buffed his nails on his shirt. "Compartmentalization is a specialty of mine."

"Good for you. I hope that skill comes in handy as you stand by the witch's side as her Auror escort."

Draco couldn't mask his shock. Theo, however, was amused at having beaten the man to the punch. "News travels fast around here, Draco. Not to mention that Anthony Hicks hasn't stopped bitching since."

* * *

Today had been a hideously long, yet interesting day for Theo. Between confirming that Draco had actually gone through with The List and finding out that Hermione had enlisted more of the blond's time, he was beginning to think that things had worked _too_ well. Regardless, he wasn't going to disregard a job well done.

It was nearing the end of the work day, and Theo figured that he might as well pack up and get going. He had just arranged his desk in order when there was a knock on his door. He looked up, momentarily taken aback, but righted himself.

"Mr. Nott, can I speak to you for a moment?" Hermione professionally addressed. She entered once he had given the okay, but flummoxed him when she silenced the room. Once she was finished, her title as Minister had clearly been ditched. "You told Malfoy to Floo Call fifty, didn't you?"

"I'm surprised at you, Minister," Theo said with a teasing smile as he walked out from behind his desk and leaned against it. "You know the rules just as I do to _not_ discuss The List."

"As if you abided by them as well as you should have?" Hermione countered with a raise of her brow. Theo denied the chance at rebuttal and tilted his head in agreement. "Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean why? The man needed a fucking shag —and an exquisite one at that."

"And?"

"And _what?_ "

"Theo, I know you. From the freckles on your arse to the nightmares that keep you up at night. I know you better than you'd like me to, and you are the sneakiest man that I've ever met in my life. You gave up your slot for a reason, and I'm not leaving until you tell me why."

"There's nothing to tell," Theo shrugged, but his heart hammered in his chest. There was a problem when it came to lying to Hermione, and it was for the very reason that she said. She knew him. The good thing about her standing several feet away instead of laying on top of him was that she couldn't feel the betrayal of his heartbeat.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and although she seemed poised to argue, she didn't. Instead, she conceded with an irritated sigh and nodded. "Fine, we'll have it your way. I hope giving up your slot was worth it."

Theo watched the woman he once considered his witch as she turned on her heels and undid the Silencing Charm she had placed on his office. The door was open now, the air was saturated with work titles and superiority yet again, but Theo couldn't help himself and pushed one final button.

"Oh, Minister Granger?"

Hermione halted her steps out of his office and half-turned to face him. "Yes, Mr. Nott?"

"I heard that Mr. Malfoy is going to be your personal Auror escort for your upcoming political travels."

The brunette visibly stiffened. She even turned red. Hermione cleared her throat once and lifted her chin as though it would correct the fault of her body. "He is. He does excellent work."

Hermione threw herself into the hall after that, slamming (perhaps purposely?) the door after her. Theo should have felt bitter, and in a way he was. He was responsible for this, however, and all he could do was snort and chuckle.

"I'm sure he does."


End file.
